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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27570574">Sturmhalten by Snowlight</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AisforAnon/pseuds/AisforAnon'>AisforAnon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Girl Genius (Webcomic)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Comfort No Hurt, Drinking &amp; Talking, Fluff and Humor, Friendship/Love, Gil is taking Tarvek and Agatha back home after the war, Gil pining without realizing he's pining, Hopeful Ending, Laughter, Multi, Pining, Post-Canon, Post-War, Pre-OT3, truly there is mild hurt but lots of comfort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:40:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,744</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27570574</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AisforAnon/pseuds/AisforAnon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I figure this is the only time its safe for three Sparks to get sozzled,” Tarvek went on, swallowing.  “Comparatively safe, that is.  After all, we don’t have to worry about setting fire to the keep, do we?”  He laughed darkly at his own joke.  “We can hardly do more damage to this place.  Might as well enjoy ourselves.”  </p>
<p>Gil reached a long arm past Agatha and twiddled his fingers, demanding the bottle.  Wordlessly, the liquor was handed over.  He took a thoughtful sniff of the vapors.  Țuică.  Gil shrugged… and drank.</p>
<p>It went down easily, with only the most delicate aroma of fruit and flowers in his nose.  But, it lit a fire in Gil’s stomach with the first swallow.  Sturmhalten’s erstwhile butler had evidently had a good palate for quality.  </p>
<p>Deftly, Agatha plucked the liquor from his hand and tipped it back without bothering to examine the contents.  She hummed low and pleased and took another sip before sending the bottle back to Tarvek.</p>
<p>They sat companionably, passing the țuică between them.  What would the world think to see the three of them, perhaps the three most powerful Sparks in eastern Europa, sitting in a ruined castle drinking themselves into glorious insobriety?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Agatha Heterodyne/Gilgamesh "Gil" Wulfenbach, Agatha Heterodyne/Tarvek Sturmvoraus, Agatha Heterodyne/Tarvek Sturmvoraus/Gilgamesh "Gil" Wulfenbach (pre-relationship)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sturmhalten by Snowlight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I don't know about anyone else, but these last several months have been awful for writing.  No time and no energy.  Who knew how difficult it was to spend that much time in characters' heads??  (probably lots of folks, but not me)</p>
<p>I've tried to carry on with WIPs.  I've started new projects.  I tried for light... and ended up starting a 70K story that began with a funeral.  I've tried AUs for a change of scene.  I've written smut to see if that would get the literary engine chugging away...  I've tried to figure out what this "fluff" thing is...  </p>
<p>All these efforts were to no avail.</p>
<p>So, I've finally given up and I'm choosing excerpts from WIPs to publish as scenes.  I ardently hope that at some point life will so align itself that I'll have the time and energy to finish and post the stories that these are a part of.  </p>
<p>In the mean time, I just hope to add a little joy to the lives of the lovely people in the GG fandom.</p>
<p>I hope you enjoy reading this.  I'd love to hear from you if you do!  &lt;3</p>
<p>Please check the end notes for warnings, if you'd like to know more about the tags.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You’re certain this is a good idea?” Gil asked. He considered the damaged masonry of Sturmhalten’s curtain wall in front of them. “I’m not sure about the condition of this…” he commented, trailing off dubiously.</p>
<p>‘<em>Not sure</em>’ was an understatement. Bombed out castles were rarely known for their structural integrity.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry about it,” Tarvek replied distractedly. “This place was absurdly over engineered. It was built to withstand the Heterodyne’s monsters, constructs, the <em>ravaging Jägermonster horde</em>…”</p>
<p>“I see.” Agatha stated, voice very dry. “It doesn’t seem to be doing very well for all that.”</p>
<p>She and Gil exchanged glances, waiting for the metaphorical hammer to drop.</p>
<p>A few steps away, Tarvek halted. “Hmm, perhaps old Andronicus <em>did</em> assume most attacks would not come from directly above?”</p>
<p>For a moment the redhead looked thoughtful. Then, he shrugged.</p>
<p>“Never mind. This part of the wall seems sufficiently intact anyway,” he went on easily. “Now, I’m just hoping that…” Tarvek squinted into the darkness. “Ah, good! Here we are.” He turned and flashed a wide smile, gesturing grandly to an ancient, gnarled tree standing in the lee of the wall. “Our way up!”</p>
<p>Gil watched, bemused, as their friend reached overhead, gripped a branch and swung himself effortlessly onto it. “Nothing to it,” Tarvek’s voice drifted down as he mounted three more branches in quick succession, ending up level with the top of Sturmhalten’s walls.</p>
<p>“Just one tricky bit here, but…” he sprang lightly from a branch onto the wall, arms windmilling as he grasped for the battlement to steady himself. “A little jump and you’re there!”</p>
<p>Beside Gil, Agatha sighed. “This would be easier with my ascension gun, you know,” she called up. “Or, wasn’t nearly falling to your death as we <em>entered</em> this place enough for you?”</p>
<p>“I used to do this all the time as a kid. Don’t worry about it. You’ll be fine,” Tarvek called out cheerfully.</p>
<p>Gil bent down, cupping his hands.</p>
<p>“Do you want a b—?” The words died on his lips as Agatha shot him a reproving look. Recovering quickly, he contorted himself into a comically low bow. “After my Lady,” he intoned formally, arms thrown wide in mock obeisance.</p>
<p>Agatha gave a decidedly unladylike snort at his foolery and hauled herself up into the tree, grumbling all the way.</p>
<p>Gil grinned in the dark.</p>
<p>True to Tarvek’s words, the wall felt sturdy enough. Gil’s boots brushed over mortar dust and loose pebbles, but the stones beneath his feet seemed largely intact. The battlement to his left was less well-preserved. Here and there merlons and parapet had been blown completely away to reveal a sheer drop down the side of the castle.</p>
<p>Accepting that they weren’t likely to be flung into the abyss by shifting stone, Gil cast his eyes around them. While the far side of the castle wall faced out to the northeastern plains, from their position on this intact, southern portion, the city of Balan’s Gap spread out before them. The view was truly spectacular, each street mapped in spots of light. Beyond the city, a thin line of illumination outlined the road as it rose into the pass. Further still, the Carpathians hulked on the horizon, a shade darker than the sky above. Stars glinted all around them, unobscured by clouds, though dimmed by the city’s lights.</p>
<p>It shouldn’t have amazed him. Not really. After all, Gil had seen much more spectacular sights. And yet, there was something special about it. Seeing it. <em>Hearing and smelling</em> the city and her people on the wind all around them.</p>
<p>He soaked in the sight until Agatha huffed and returned to his side to tug him along the wall. Careful not to stumble or bump one another, they made their way to the spot where Tarvek sat in an open section of the wall, legs dangling over Sturmhalten’s dark, silent moat.</p>
<p>It was a strange feeling, sitting there. Gil couldn’t remember the last time he’d had nothing to do but <em>sit</em>. Nothing to do but sit and enjoy the sights. Nothing to do but simply be with Agatha and Tarvek.</p>
<p>Their time away was hard-won. Taken when they could ill afford it, he knew. But he’d steadfastly refused to simply deposit Tarvek back in his city without support, without knowing what his friend would face.</p>
<p>In a week’s time Agatha, too, would go back to Mechanicsburg. Her minions. Her Castle. <em>She</em> would be just fine. Better than fine, really. A Heterodyne in their proper place, free to pursue mischief and mayhem, was a happy Heterodyne.</p>
<p>Gil knew he didn’t have to worry about her. But, he worried about Tarvek. His friend was coming home to nothing. <em>Almost</em> nothing, anyway.</p>
<p>Gil sighed. In only a few days, he would be duty bound to return to his responsibilities. Just the thought of going back to the castle without both of them at his side made his guts twist and his middle ache sharply. He was going to miss them awfully.</p>
<p>And yet, the reality was inescapable. They each had their own domains to oversee. Europa needed them as independent rulers. Needed them able to stand as one — as equals — and hold the continent together.</p>
<p>For now, Gil needed allies more than he needed friends.</p>
<p>The <em>Empire</em> needs allies, a clinical part of his mind corrected.</p>
<p>Gil ignored the voice.</p>
<p>He knew full well he hadn’t bothered to think about what <em>he</em> needed. He wasn’t going to get it, no matter what it was. So, what was the point in wishing?</p>
<p>Gil pushed the troubling thoughts away and focused on the present. He intended to enjoy every minute of their stay in Sturmhalten. Every minute of freedom. Every minute he had with them.</p>
<p>“It’s beautiful,” Agatha observed quietly. “I never…” she paused. “Well, I didn’t get to see it this way the last time.”</p>
<p>Gil winced. Both Agatha and Tarvek had grim memories of this place.</p>
<p>Gil scooted up against her side, wishing he could shield her as easily from the pain of the past as he could from the chill. “It <em>is</em> beautiful,” he murmured. On her other side, Tarvek shifted closer too, pressing Agatha between them in a gesture of comfort.</p>
<p>After a moment though, Tarvek fidgeted, searching his coat pockets.</p>
<p>“I almost forgot.” With the air of a conjurer drawing a oversized rabbit from a miniature hat, he produced a bottle of clear liquor. He examined the label in the faint light, then deftly thumbed out the cork. “Found this in the ruins earlier. Our butler always did enjoy secreting away a bottle or two of the best for his private use.”</p>
<p>He saluted them and tipped a healthy measure into his mouth.</p>
<p>“I figure this is the only time its safe for three Sparks to get sozzled,” Tarvek went on, swallowing. “Comparatively safe, that is. After all, we don’t have to worry about setting fire to the keep, do we?” He laughed darkly at his own joke. “We can hardly do more damage to this place. Might as well enjoy ourselves.”</p>
<p>Tarvek tossed back another mouthful.</p>
<p>Gil reached a long arm past Agatha and twiddled his fingers, demanding the bottle. Wordlessly, the liquor was handed over. He took a thoughtful sniff of the vapors. Țuică. Gil shrugged… and drank.</p>
<p>It went down easily, with only the most delicate aroma of fruit and flowers in his nose. But, it lit a fire in Gil’s stomach with the first swallow. Sturmhalten’s erstwhile butler had evidently had a good palate for quality.</p>
<p>Deftly, Agatha plucked the liquor from his hand and tipped it back without bothering to examine the contents. She hummed low and pleased and took another sip before sending the bottle back to Tarvek.</p>
<p>They sat companionably, passing the țuică between them. Gil let the feeling of the alcohol wash over and relax him. What would the world think to see the three of them, perhaps the three most powerful Sparks in eastern Europa, sitting in a ruined castle drinking themselves into glorious insobriety?</p>
<p>They’d shrugged off their burdens, abandoned their advisors and generals for this… Well, it was almost a <em>holiday</em>.</p>
<p>The Heterodyne.</p>
<p>The leader of the Empire.</p>
<p>The Storm King’s heir.</p>
<p>Gil laughed quietly to himself at the thought. They were certainly letting their hair down. And, not in the usual Sparky way of setting their abominations on the local villages just to break the monotony of a day spent in the lab.</p>
<p>
  <em>Monotony. I doubt we even remember what that feels like.</em>
</p>
<p>Rulers didn’t get ‘time off.’ And, Sparks often slept only they when they fell unconscious over their lab benches.</p>
<p>As though he could hear these thoughts, Tarvek took another deep draught. Gil’s eye was caught by the movement of his friend’s hand as he intercepted an errant drop of liquor at the corner of his mouth with a timely thumb. The redhead was tightly wound at the best of times; Gil knew that better than anyone. Tarvek could do with the chance to let himself go.</p>
<p>A sharp elbow to the side dragged his eyes to Agatha’s. She softened the blow by threading her arm through his.</p>
<p>Something sharp pricked at the corners of his eyes. He blinked. Gil was going to miss that most of all. These simple, carefree touches. The easy intimacy Agatha offered them. Gil pressed his face into the crown of her head, breathing in deeply, trying to memorize her scent.</p>
<p>“What are you laughing about?” she asked, lips twitching in a smile at his humor and obvious affection.</p>
<p>“I was going to ask the same thing,” Tarvek commented, sending the țuică on another round.</p>
<p>“I was just thinking that I haven’t seen Tarvek… this ah— <em>uninhibited</em> since…” Gil rested the returning bottle against his thigh. He considered the past twenty years, but failed to come up with any relevant evidence. “Well, <em>ever</em> I guess.”</p>
<p>Against his side, Agatha chuckled. Her small hand slid over his wrist, angling the bottle toward the light. “Well, if my memory serves, we want to be careful with this stuff,” she advised, lifting the liquor from Gil’s grip and taking a hearty drink.</p>
<p>“The last time I sat around drinking like this with a cute boy, or two handsome men in your cases”— she gestured to her companions with the bottle —“things got <em>very uninhibited</em>.”</p>
<p>Gil started, head snapping around to regard her with disbelief.</p>
<p>But, Agatha didn’t meet his eyes. Something in the mood had shifted; something he could not identify. She stared straight out over the city toward the distant mountains while her occupied hand shoved the bottle toward Tarvek.</p>
<p>“Wait? When was <em>that</em>?” Gil spluttered, mind filling with images that left him dismayed, yet more intoxicated than the liquor.</p>
<p>“Gil.” Tarvek’s voice came low and full of warning</p>
<p>Bewildered, Gil looked up at him. His friend shook his head almost imperceptibly, but said nothing more.</p>
<p>Now even more confused and a little worried, Gil turned back to Agatha. Slowly, she reclaimed her arm from his, wrapping it around her middle as though hugging herself. It’s absence left a chill, but his insides felt even colder. For a time she didn’t speak. But, Gil could make out her grimace, her profile visible in the light from the city.</p>
<p>“Not too far south of here, actually.”</p>
<p>Gil was surprised she deigned to answer the question. The admission had been so personal. Beyond her, Tarvek tipped up the bottle and drank. But Gil noted that he, too, was regarding Agatha out of the corner of his eye. She seemed to search for words. In the end, though, she only shook her head.</p>
<p>“It was a long time ago.”</p>
<p>Something in her tone, like Tarvek’s, warned Gil not to inquire further. He shifted rather uncomfortably on their scrap of wall. Too much of this and his rear would go numb against the hard stone. Unthinking, he accepted the bottle Tarvek passed along and took a nip.</p>
<p>He put his discomfort from his mind. Gil wouldn’t have been anywhere else in the world right now, troubling memories and numb cheeks or no.</p>
<p>“At least he had a hat,” Agatha said into the silence. And, it took Gil a moment to realize they hadn’t left the topic of Agatha’s past amorous adventures.</p>
<p>She swiped awkwardly at her face with a sleeve until Tarvek silently passed her his handkerchief. She wiped her face and tucked the cloth into a pocket.</p>
<p>With nothing else safe to say, Gil fell back upon tradition. “To our friends,” he said clerly, raising the bottle in front of the three of them. He swallowed and passed it back to Agatha.</p>
<p>“Friends,” she echoed and drank before pushing the țuică in Tarvek’s direction.</p>
<p>“Friends.” Tarvek paused, reflecting. Then he too, drank.</p>
<p>With the ghosts of the past appeased, the mood settled. They sat in companionable silence, drinking in the sight below as the bottle passed methodically from hand to hand. The city was still bustling even at this late hour. Sitting as it did at the mouth of the mountain pass, people came and went at all hours. With the castle silent and dark below them, the three could make out the sounds of people and traffic through the streets. If he strained, Gil thought he could hear the distant sound of hawkers calling out in the night market.</p>
<p>Beside Gil, Agatha’s head drifted down onto Tarvek’s shoulder, and Tarvek raised a hand to comb gently through her hair, keeping it from her face. A small, calloused hand felt down Gil’s arm, and Agatha pulled his hand into her lap, lacing their fingers. The simple gesture warmed him through more completely than the alcohol. And, Gil let himself bask quietly in the feeling.</p>
<p>It was nice. The three of them together. Watching the city in the dark.</p>
<p>There was something almost soothing about the sights and sounds of normal human activity around them. If Tarvek could move on from the past, he might even enjoy living here. True, Balan’s Gap was hardly Paris or Vienna or Budapest, but it was <em>alive</em>. <em>And happy</em>, Gil noted, as the sounds of laughter from a tavern just across the castle’s moat drifted back to them.</p>
<p>“It’s nice,” Gil offered into the silence. “<em>This</em> is nice,” he gave Agatha’s fingers a little squeeze. The words didn’t do enough to capture the sense of peace and relaxation he was feeling… the happiness. But, it didn’t matter. Gil knew Tarvek and Agatha would understand.</p>
<p>Agatha raised the bottle in silent toast to Gil’s words, and Tarvek hummed his agreement with the sentiment. The bottle made its obligatory round before returning to Tarvek who placed it on a crumbling parapet beside him, evidently marking a pause in their drinking.</p>
<p>It was just as well. They might be drinking on full stomachs, but none of them was very accustomed to alcohol. <em>His</em> body would probably metabolize the liquor quickly and efficiently. Past experience had shown that it was remarkably difficult for him to get drunk. But, it wouldn’t do to have either of the others fall off the stone wall. It had been a long day. And, Gil would prefer to enjoy tonight, not have to scrounge in the depths of Sturmhalten castle for the proper equipment for a revivification apparatus.</p>
<p>More than that, he wanted to remember this evening. This moment with the two people who mattered most to him in the world. Affection rose in him like a tide. And, suddenly filled with teasing good humor, Gil nudged Agatha gently with his shoulder.</p>
<p>“Hey, I thought ladies were always supposed to have handkerchiefs for emergencies. Why are you stealing Tarvek’s?”</p>
<p>To his bemusement, Agatha started at the question. She frowned, then began to pat down her person.</p>
<p>“Handkerchief… <em>Handkerchief</em>? ‘Ve got my deathray. Ah, and an awful lot of screwdrivers,” she held up both as evidence before tucking them back into her belt. “Lots of gears and things…” she mused, hands creeping up her body to dip into pockets and pouches. Gil watched and blushed as, apparently running out of hiding places, she patted then glared down at her décolletage.</p>
<p>“No handkerchief though—” She turned an adorably confused and earnest expression on Tarvek. “You don’t mind do you?”</p>
<p>“Hmm?” the redhead made an inquiring noise, eyes still fixed on the city below.</p>
<p>“I’m taking your <em>handkerchief</em>,” Agatha appeared more worried than Gil’s feeble joke warranted.</p>
<p>
  <em>Uh oh, I guess Tarvek didn’t stop the bottle soon enough.</em>
</p>
<p>Agatha sounded solidly tipsy.</p>
<p>“I’m sure it’s fine—” Gil began.</p>
<p>“I must have lost mine,” she fretted. And to his embarrassment, Agatha once again ran her hands over her chest as though feeling for the missing cloth somewhere in her cleavage.</p>
<p>Tarvek had finally caught onto the thread of the conversation, and Gil was sure, even in this dim light, that his friend’s cheeks were flushed.</p>
<p>“If you just—” Agatha turned to Gil and horrified realization hit him just as she reached for the fastenings of her bodice. “I’m sure I can find it, if I can only get this o—”</p>
<p>Swiftly, Tarvek’s arms slid around Agatha’s waist and stilled her fluttering hands.</p>
<p>“No need. Keep it.” He replied, voice rough and strained.</p>
<p>Gil breathed out in relief as Agatha relaxed.</p>
<p>“Okay. But, only if you’re sure,” she replied.</p>
<p>Without warning, Tarvek’s grin flashed out in the gloom, his smile a spark that sank into Gil’s chest, heating him through.</p>
<p>Continuing in an overly dramatic stage voice, Tarvek said, “<em><strong>Keep my handkerchief forever by your heart, my darling.</strong></em>”</p>
<p>Agatha smiled back over her shoulder and answered Tarvek’s line in a voice so seductive it made Gil’s cheeks flame.</p>
<p>“<strong><em>Your handkerchief and your… socket wrench?</em></strong>”</p>
<p>Tarvek and Agatha paused, caught in the ludicrous lines of the play. The author, in Gil’s opinion, must have harbored a secret, salacious affinity for hand tools. <em>Socket wrench. Socket wench.</em> He shook his head, amused.</p>
<p>For the first time in years Gil was reminded that Agatha had spent months acting with a Heterodyne show. How odd it must have been to play at fanciful stories of your own parents. And yet, here sitting the in circle of Tarvek’s arms, she showed no sign of distress. Instead, her face shone with mirth, green eyes reflecting the stars overhead.</p>
<p>His breath caught. Gil swallowed down the feeling that his heart would burst from his throat and tried to gather his wits.</p>
<p>“Why am I even friends with you two?” He mock-buried his face in his hands, playing along with their foolishness, buying a moment to compose himself.</p>
<p>“<strong><em>Come on, Gilgamesh.</em></strong> I <em>know</em> you have every one of those plays memorized…” Looking up Gil could just make out Tarvek’s quirked eyebrow, teasing. Inviting him to play.</p>
<p>He rolled his eyes just once for the look of the thing, then declaimed loudly, <strong><em>“But not the frogs, my love. Never the frogs. For they must go in… the pie!”</em></strong></p>
<p>All three of them held the moment for a beat. Then two.</p>
<p>Abruptly the tension broke, and they dissolved into laughter. They laughed until the tears ran. Agatha took off her glasses and fished again for Tarvek’s handkerchief to wipe her eyes.</p>
<p>“<em><strong>…in the pie!</strong></em>” Tarvek repeated, barely able to contain his hilarity. Somehow the line was funnier the second time. Gil guffawed and choked as liquid ran the wrong way down his throat. He bent forward coughing and laughing only to knock heads with Tarvek who was almost sobbing with mirth on Agatha’s shoulder. They shared an astonished look at the impact, before collapsing into renewed giggles.</p>
<p>“Oooh, oooh, <em>stop</em>!” Agatha begged, holding her stomach against the pain.</p>
<p>“It’s not even that funny,” Tarvek said between chuckles, clutching his pince-nez in one hand as he tried to wipe his eyes with his sleeve.</p>
<p>“I know! But, I just can’t—” Gil forced in a deep breath and held it, trying to relieve his overtaxed muscles. “Whew,” he let the air out in a rush, and accepted Tarvek’s damp handkerchief which was now making the rounds.</p>
<p>“I wish we could stay like this forever,” Agatha said, suddenly soft and sober. She nudged up tightly against Gil’s side, pulling Tarvek along the stone wall with her, until Gil lifted his arm and wrapped it around her tucking his fingers into the warm space between her waist and Tarvek’s.</p>
<p>“These last few days have felt… stolen out of time.” Tarvek’s words were a low rumble, echoing Gil’s earlier thoughts. “Which is saying something, considering the things <em>we’ve</em> seen.”</p>
<p>“We know what you mean,” Gil nodded to himself and nudged Tarvek’s side with a finger. “Right now… there’s just us. Just this job in front of us. And, it’s— well, it’s not easy exactly… But, you know what I mean. It’s just fixing things. There’s no…” He waved his free hand in a futile search for words.</p>
<p>They were a poor job; Gil’s words.</p>
<p>Not encompassing even half of the sentiment that threatened to overwhelm him.</p>
<p>Agatha’s head nodded against his shoulder nevertheless. “Just give me the right tools, and I can fix things. Fix almost anything.” She held up her hands, the fingers of the right one entwined with Tarvek’s. “Hands and tools are easy. The three of us fixing things together. That’s easy. It feels right.”</p>
<p>“It does.” Tarvek agreed quietly.</p>
<p>They stared out at the city lights, each silent with their thoughts.</p>
<p><em>There isn’t anything else to say,</em> Gil reflected. <em>We understand one another. As for the rest… The decisions are made. Now we have to live them.</em></p>
<p>A soft snow began to fall. Just tiny flakes at first. Little prisms that glinted in the lights of the restaurants and taverns. Far below them and across the dark expanse of the castle moat, the door of an inn opened and people poured into the street. Moving figures swirled the snowflakes into lazy patterns, spinning them up and around in the air.</p>
<p>Tarvek pushed more firmly against Agatha’s side, crushing her into Gil. He freed his hand from her grip to slide that arm around her back and alongside Gil’s under the warm curtain of her hair. Out of the corner of his eye, Gil saw Agatha’s mouth start to pout before Tarvek offered up his other hand. She tangled her fingers again with his, smiling, and rested her head back in the hollow of Gil’s shoulder.</p>
<p>The snow thickened and fell faster.</p>
<p>Together, they were warm.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning for alcohol consumption, discussions of alcohol, frequent references to alcohol, two references to insobriety, Agatha gets tipsy.  </p>
<p>No gratuitous drunkenness or OOC behavior due to alcohol consumption.  </p>
<p>Just three friends boozin' of an evening.</p>
<p>If that's not your jam, no worries!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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